American Honey
by frostygossamer
Summary: Dean wakes up a cougar. Sam has a mind-blowing experience. No particular season. No spoilers. bodyswap!Dean/OFC wincest!Sam/OFC noncon!OMC/Dean comfort!Sam. M rating for sex, violence and nudity. You've been warned! COMPLETE
1. The Cougar

Summary: Dean wakes up a cougar. Sam has a mind-blowing experience.

* * *

A/N: I was challenged to write something M. Frankly if anyone were to film anything like this, I wouldn't watch it. I'm way too much of a prude. ;)

* * *

American Honey by frostygossamer

* * *

Part 1: The Cougar

"Fifteen freakin' ghosts", Sam swore. "Fifteen! It's taken almost one whole month to track down every last one of that demented forest ranger's victims and lay their freakin' asses for good. God, I hope we got all of them!".

"Sure we got all of them", Dean replied wearily. "No more weird cases of people possessed by wolves, kids talking like parrots, trees whispering names, food turning into maggots, forsets running with blood, frog rain, yada yada. That's one job that is totally done. I mean totally, bro".

Dean parked the Impala in front of one of those rail-car diners. They were due some R&R and that started with food.

Sam and Dean walked into the diner. It was empty apart from a middle-aged lady behind the counter and a guy manning the kitchen. Actually, no, one more, the stunningly fine-looking cougar at the far end of the counter.

She had gorgeous long blond hair and was wearing a very chic leopard-skin print skirt-suit which really showed off her figure. A pair of long legs and matching designer high-heels completed the outfit.

Dean's eyes lit up as he swung himself onto the stool next to her. Sam frowned.

"Hi, honey", he said. "Pinch me".

The babe gave him a look.

"'Cos you're so darn beautiful I must be dreaming", he continued cornily.

She leaned past him to catch Sam's eye.

"This guy always so unoriginal?", she asked. Sam sighed.

And to Dean's amazement she slipped off her stool and slid up beside Sam.

"Name's Deborah", she breathed. "What's yours, handsome?"

"Err, 'Sam'", Sam replied bemused. Dean looked a little put out.

"Haven't seen you in here before, Sam", Deborah continued.

"No. We're just passing through", he explained.

She spread her fingers over Sam's hand on the counter.

"Doing anything tonight?", she asked leadingly.

"Well, I dunno", Sam replied, nervously glancing at Dean. Dean pretended not to notice.

Deborah's eyes flashed from Sam's face to Dean and back again.

She stood up. "Maybe I'll run into you later, Sam", she promised and swanned out of the diner.

"You're well in there, Sammy boy", Dean laughed.

Sam huffed, "Oh sure".

('o')

Next morning Sam woke up early. Turning over onto his back he looked across at Dean's bed. It was empty. Faint noises in the bathroom indicated his brother's whereabouts.

After a few minutes the bathroom door opened and Dean appeared in the doorway dressed only in his boxers. He leaned on the doorpost winsomely and sighed.

Sam couldn't help but notice, once again, that he looked kinda hot like that.

"Something very weird has happened, Sam", Dean said croakily.

"What is it?", Sam asked, sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. "What's wrong, Dean?".

Dean walked over to Sam's bed and sat down.

"That's just it", he whispered. "I'm not Dean!".

"What do you mean you're not Dean?", Sam asked dozily.

"I mean I went to sleep last night in my own apartment and I woke up here. At first I didn't know where I was, but I felt sort of odd so I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, and there I was. Like this. A man!".

Sam looked puzzled, "Who are you then, if you're not Dean?".

"I'm Deborah, Deborah Dane", she said. "I met you yesterday at the diner. How the hell did this happen, Sam?".

"This isn't some kind of wind-up, is it?", Sam asked suspiciously.

Deborah looked at him, Dean's eyes brimming with tears. Oh no, this certainly wasn't Dean!

"Don't worry", Sam said, jumping out of bed. "I'll find Dean and we'll sort this out. It's gonna be OK".

Sam began hastily throwing on his clothes.

"Gimme your address, Deborah", he said. "I'm gonna drive over and pick up Dean, then we can work out how to put things right. You wait here".

And so saying he grabbed Dean's keys and headed out to the Impala.

When he had gone, Deborah found some jeans and a shirt and popped into the cafe adjoining the motel. She ordered a black coffee to go and, as an afterthought, swiped a jar of honey from the condiments trolley. Then she went back to the room and patiently waited for Sam to return.

('o')

She didn't have long to wait. A few minutes later Sam came back alone.

"He wasn't there", he said. "I've gotta hope he'll find his own way back here".

"In the meantime what can we do?", he asked himself.

Deborah smiled at him, Dean's green eyes shining through his long lashes.

"I know something we can do to pass the time, Sam sweetie", she purred, moving up close to him. She put Dean's hands on his shoulders and leaned in to him.

Sam squirmed in embarrassment.

"Oh Sam", Deborah cooed, making Dean's voice seem unusually low and sexy. "Don't tell me that you've never thought about it. I saw the way you looked at your friend Dean yesterday. He won't play, right? Well, that's OK. I'll play, if you want to. We can have some fun, if you want it. Dean doesn't need ever know".

Sam drew in a long breath. "Oh God", he thought. "Talk about a once in a lifetime opportunity. Dean would kill me. But it might just be worth it".

Deborah walked over to Sam's bed, pulling Dean's clothes off as she went, and stretched out on the comforter. "Come and get me, big boy", she whispered through Dean's lips.

"Call me Sammy", Sam begged, as his heart gave in to temptation.

Sam put his conscience to one side, tore off his clothes and joined Deborah on the bed. He pressed his eager lips to Dean's neck. Laughing, Deborah cupped his ass and squeezed playfully.

"Sammy", she whispered in his ear.

Sam ran his fingers up Dean's spine and curled them into his hair. Reaching for the honey she had hidden in the bedside table, Deborah dribbled it onto Dean's pecs, burnishing his erect nipples. Sam licked the syrupy gold from Dean's skin like a starving man, as Deborah wound Dean's fingers in his tangled hair.

"Oh, Sammy, Sammy", she murmured throatily.

She spread Dean's fingers over Sam's stomach and pleasured his nipple with Dean's tongue. Sam arched his spine in response to her exquisite stimulation. She pulled him down towards Dean's body and kissed his mouth with even greater heat, Dean's tongue toying with his. She grasped his waist and rolled him onto his back. Reaching for the honey again she drizzled it liberally on Sam's groin. It felt cold and filthy.

"You're gonna love this, Sammy", she hissed.

Then she took Sam's sweet and sticky manhood into Dean's mouth and played with it cruelly, until he could stand it no more. Deborah rolled onto Dean's stomach and Sam clung to his form, desperate with passion. Hardly able to breathe he kissed the nape of Dean's neck, softly like a butterfly's touch. Deborah thrilled head to toe, ripples of desire running through Dean's body.

"Take me, Sammy, take me, baby", she gasped.

She raised Dean's ass, pushing provocatively against Sam's manhood. Sam entered Dean's body like a freight train entering a mountain tunnel.

"Dean!", he sobbed. "Oh God, Dean".

When they were both totally spent, Sam and Deborah broke apart panting.

"You love him, right?", Deborah asked, smiling.

"Way too much", Sam grinned.

('o')

Some time earlier Dean had woken up in a strange bed. That of itself wasn't so strange.

The room was out of focus. "What the hell was I drinking last night", he thought.

After a few minutes he sat up, rubbing his face. Something felt odd about his chest. He lifted the covers and looked down.

"O-oh", he thought. "Something kinda screwy going on here".

He felt his front with both hands. "Yeah, that's what I thought... Sweater Puppies!".

He jumped out of bed. He was wearing a figure hugging dark blue silk nightgown and the figure it was hugging was pretty damn hot. Freak-y!.

He looked round for a mirror. There was a full length one on the wall by the door. He peered into it myopically. Quite a babe. And, yes, he knew her. That Deborah chick from yesterday at the diner. How the hell...?

Then he noticed a contacts case on the nightstand. Great, now he could see. And as he was here anyway he took a few minutes to slip off the nightdress and examine the goods: gorgeous mane of silky golden hair, great breasts, toned arms, lovely hands (nice manicure), flat belly, pert ass, legs up to the neck, petite feet, everything correct underneath (best to be sure). Hell, what a box of toys to play with!

Dean found it an effort to pull his mind back to the problem in hand. "Gotta go find Sam", he thought.

He searched around for some decent clothes and, discarding some very interesting frillies, found a pair of jeans, a baggy T, some sneakers and a plain denim jacket, then headed outside.

He didn't recognise the neighbourhood, so he walked along the sidewalk keeping one eye open for a cab. Then he found himself in front of a gym. A ladies' gym. To his credit he hesitated a moment before going in.

The changing room was full of shapely lovelies in various states of undress. Dean took a towel from the pile and tried to look nonchalant as he selected a great vantage point on the room. Girls in a girl-only setting can be sweetly unselfconscious about their nakedness.

Dean slowly removed Deborah's clothes, whilst looking at no one in particular but everyone a little, and wrapped the fluffy towel around Deborah's waist, as he usually wore it. He rested Deborah's hands on her hips and looked around.

A couple of girls looked at him and giggled. He didn t know they were saying, "Sister, we think you re a little too proud of that new boob job". One skinny girl wrapped her towel tighter around her chest self-consciously and Dean realised he'd better pull his up over Deborah's chest.

Women came and went from the room, but after a while he realised he must look suspicious hanging around. Then he noticed they had a sauna. Great!

Now, sauna stalking was low even for Dean but this was kinda unusual circumstances, and an opportunity like this didn't come along very often.

Dean slipped into the sauna room behind a striking redhead and, removing his towel, sat on an empty bench where he could get a good view.

It was like the bathhouse of a sultan's harem in there. Through curtains of steam, Dean glimpsed a jumble of bouncing cantaloupe bosoms, captivating curves, gorgeously plump tooshes and sexy legs.

God, he felt horny, Deborah's face began to flush pink with perspiration and excitement. Thank God it was easier to hide than when he was a guy.

He lasted about fifteen minutes before he was asked to leave, escorted to the changing rooms by a burly instructress with a moustache. Two ladies had made a complaint. Probably lesbians. Oh no, that wouldn't work. Obviously homophobes!

Out on the sidewalk again, "Where was I?", he thought. "Oh yeah, go find Sam".

('o')

Dean stood outside their motel room door for a moment, feeling in his pocket absently for the non-existent room key he didn't have. He wondered how he was gonna explain things to his brother.

He knocked on the door and Sam opened it immediately.

Dean opened his mouth to explain. "Yeah, yeah, we know about it, Dean. Come on in", Sam cut in.

"You know Deborah, right?", he said, indicating the person sitting at the table eating Chinese take-out from the carton. It was himself. We-ird!

"Yeah, sure", Dean replied, trying to look unfazed.

"We were just, err, hanging out, waiting for you to turn up", Sam said. "Where the hell have you been?".

"It's a long story, bro", Dean replied. He sniffed. "What's that sweet smell?".

"N-nothing. My after-shave maybe", Sam stammered awkwardly.

Dean gave him a questioning look. "Kinda girly for after-shave", he thought.

"Have some Dim Sum", Deborah interrupted. "There's plenty".

Dean didn't need to be offered food twice, and he laid into the take-out enthusiastically.

"Any ideas about this... this body swap thing, Sam?", he asked with Deborah's mouth full of noodles. "Spell? Curse? Hex?".

"Haven't come up with anything new, Dean", Sam replied. "Can only think that we missed one of the suckers the mad ranger off'd".

"OK, I guess we can go back and have another look around. See who we missed", Dean agreed. "You better come along, Debs".

Deborah nodded. Where the hell else was she going like this?

"First I gotta hit the head", Dean said, somewhat unladylike, and headed for the bathroom.

When he was gone Deborah stood up and walked over to Sam.

"Dean called you 'bro'?", she asked quietly.

"'Cos he's my brother", Sam admitted shamefaced.

"Poor baby. You are all fucked up", she said, kissing his temple.

('o')

They went out to the car and Dean got into the driver's seat. It didn't fit. "Freakin' Charlize legs", Dean complained, fiddling with the seat adjustment, while Deborah got into the back seat.

"I got the same problem", Sam laughed.

Dean ignored him, releasing the brake and driving off.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Sam thought how strange it was to see a woman driving the Impala while 'Dean' sat in the back. Dean's baby had never been driven by a woman before.

After a couple of hours they were back in Ranger-town. They went into the town library were they had done their research last time. Sam schmoozed the lady librarian to find out if she had any new weird happenings to impart. He drew a blank. Back in the stacks Dean and Deborah, or was it Deborah and Dean, were having no luck either.

They gave up. It was getting late. They'd have to try again tomorrow. They drove to the nearest motel. Dean insisted in getting two rooms. One for him and Deborah. He wanted to keep an eye on his body. Sam could have the other one.

('o')

Once in their room, Deborah went and lay on the bed nearest the bathroom, Sam's bed ordinarily. Dean went and sat on the other bed facing her.

"Well, Debs", he said. "This body swap business. Guess your feelin' kinda upset by all this weirdness".

Deborah smiled sweetly. "It's pretty weird. But you're gonna sort it all out, right? I trust you two. You seem to know about stuff. I expect it'll be fine".

"It must feel pretty strange for you, trapped in my body", he continued. "I suppose your feeling kinda antsy. It's not what you're used to".

"Oh, it's OK", Dean", she said. "You have a pretty nice body. But I'm sure you knew that".

Dean grinned and shifted to sit on the side of her bed.

"Yours is pretty neat too, Debs. Maybe we should swap notes?", he wheedled.

Deborah sat up. Their faces were only inches apart. Dean's green eyes stared into Deborah's blue ones for several seconds.

Deborah exhaled. "I know what you're thinking, Dean, and it's not gonna happen".

"Well, I don't know. I'm you and you're me. It would it just be like pleasuring yourself, right? Don't tell me you've never done that".

"Dean", she replied firmly. "You're not gonna get anywhere like this".

"You're not curious?", he asked.

"And you are?", she retorted. "OK, let's try it".

And then she kissed him, full on the mouth, forcing her tongue, his tongue, deep into his mouth, her mouth. God that was disturbing!

When they separated Dean looked kinda cross-eyed.

"There", she said. "I didn't think so. You're not my type, lady". And she turned over and feigned sleep.

Dean got up and went out. Somehow he felt like his panties were in a bunch.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Further sex and nudity in part 2, and the violence. Plus angst and H/C. Please read on.


	2. The SOB

American Honey by frostygossamer

* * *

Part 2: The S.O.B.

As soon as Dean was gone, Deborah got up and grabbed her honey jar. In a moment she was knocking on the door of Sam's room. He opened the door right away, wearing only his underwear.

"Got some left, Sammy. You ready for some more fun?", she said pressing the jar into his hand.

Sam stood back and let her enter, grinning like a fool. Hell, this was one big mistake and he was gonna regret it. But he was gonna make it worth regretting.

Deborah kissed him on the jaw, slipping Dean's fingers into his waistband and letting his boxers drop to the carpet. Sam felt his fingers unbuttoning Dean's shirt. As he pulled it down over Dean's shoulders Deborah chuckled, kicking off Dean's shoes. God that chuckle sounded dirty.

Sam had a double bed, which was nice. Deborah flung herself on the bed laughing, wriggling out of Dean's pants. Sam joined her, nipping Dean's collarbone playfully as she wrapped Dean's legs around him. He caressed the side of Dean's neck with his tongue, up behind his ear, and sucked his earlobe hungrily. Deborah grabbed his shoulders and forced him to turn over onto his belly. Dean was strong.

"Your turn, Sammy baby", Deborah insisted.

She bit Sam teasingly on the soft skin at the back of his neck, and kissed him long and slow on the tender spot between his shoulder blades. She nibbled all the way down his arched backbone, down to his muscular butt. Then she dribbled the honey slowly between his buttocks, making them slick and gooey. She slid Dean's tongue into his crack, and licked deep into the honey drenched opening. Sam squirmed in pleasure.

"Oh God", he breathed.

"Just relax, Sammy", Deborah whispered with Dean's voice, low, sensual and dangerous. "I'm gonna make you squeal, baby. You're gonna beg for more".

Right then Sam's cell chose to ring. 'Stairway to Heaven' had been a bizarrely appropriate ringtone choice.

"Ignore it, Sammy", Deborah hissed. "We don't want to be disturbed right now, do we?".

Sam hummed assent, and Deborah began to push Dean's badboy rhythmically, deep into his soul.

('o')

The exchange with Deborah had left Dean feeling decidedly creeped out. The bar at the end of the Main Street offered a welcome alternative mindset. As he shoved the door open, he was barged into by a roughneck in a Stetson. Dean shrugged his jacket straight and continued inside. "That kind of joint, OK", he thought.

Dean took a seat on a stool at the bar and ordered a beer and a whiskey chaser. He stared at his reflection in the mirror wall behind the bar, toying with his drink. The blonde stared back.

OK, so what if he couldn't change back, if he was stuck like this? Would life as a woman be so bad? Half the population got by OK, right? At least she was a looker, 5 maybe 6 years older than him. But that was OK, women generally live longer anyway, right?

And as for sex. Well obviously he would have to go lesbian, but that would work for him. It might even be fun. He snickered to himself wickedly.

Then something else occurred to him. Kids, what about kids? He liked kids and he'd always kinda liked the idea of being a father, someday. Hell, what was he thinking, if he was a woman he could always have one himself, all he'd need was a sperm bank, right? Childbirth couldn't be any more painful than half the things he had already put his body through. Piece of cake! And maybe he could even talk Sam into contributing a cupful, then the kid would even be a little Winchester! That would be kinda neat. God, now he was getting broody!

Something heavy flopped itself down on the stool next to him, beer in hand. The gorilla set his glass down on the bar and began counting a wad of bills.

"Backed the winning team for once", he said to the barman and generally, by way of explanation.

Dean ignored him. "Same again", the guy said gesturing around.

Dean accepted the top-up without even thinking. The big galoot turned around and grinned at him.

"I'm Pete", he said. "Sure, pal", Dean replied uninterestedly.

Pete was feeling generous and more drinks were poured. Dean began to think this was a pretty great guy, but that could have been the alcohol.

Eventually his new pal Pete made a move to leave.

"Coming?", he said affably. "I got a hummer outside. Give you a lift home?".

It was pretty late by now and Dean thought, "Yeah, time to call time".

"Sure", he said, and followed the big guy outside to the parking lot.

The cold night air hit Dean harder than usual, and he almost stumbled on the grit of the lot. Pete caught him by the waist and stood him up. "You OK?", he asked, not letting go.

"Oh sure. I'm fine", Dean mumbled, pulling away from his buddy. He started to walk away, but Pete grabbed his arm.

"Oh no, you don't, little lady", he hissed. "You're coming with me".

His fingers bit painfully into Dean's female biceps. He tugged but he hadn't the strength to break away.

The truth of the situation suddenly dawned on Dean. His eyes widened in disbelief.

He fumbled in his pocket for his cell, Deborah's cell. Pete saw that and grabbed at the phone, relaxing his grip for an instant. Dean took the opportunity to run. Hell, he had never run as fast as this before, not when he was in his right mind.

He ducked into a dark doorway and keyed in Sam's number. The call tried to connect, but no one picked up. It went to voicemail.

"Damn!", Dean gasped. "Sam, Sam, I need you here right now. This guy. Oh God. I'm here on Sugar Street. Get off your ass and get here". He was panting and it wasn't just from the running. He was frightened.

('o')

Sam rolled over on his back and sighed. There were times when he wished that he smoked. This was one of them. Deborah chuckled and rolled onto his chest.

"I'm gonna miss this when I change back", she mused smirking. "If I change back", she added hastily.

Sam grinned and brushed the damp hair off of Dean's glistening brow. "Me too", he whispered, a little sadness tingeing his voice.

Lazily he reached out and picked up his cell phone from the bedside table, curious about that annoying call that had interrupted them earlier.

There was a voicemail from an unrecognised number. He listened to it.

"Oh Crap!", he yelled, rocketing out of bed. "I gotta go. Dean's in trouble".

"What's wrong?", Deborah asked concerned.

"Where's Sugar Street?", Sam asked, throwing on some clothes.

"Just behind Main Street", she replied. "Runs parallel".

For a moment Sam expected 'Dean' to come with him but, oh yeah, this was Deborah.

"Better you just wait here", he said. "I've gotta go get Dean. I'll be back soon".

He grabbed Dean's keys, and his gun, and slammed the door as he left.

Deborah sat up feeling sticky. "Better take a shower", she thought. "Dean's gonna want the dishes done before he gets home".

('o')

Sam stopped the Impala at the end of Sugar Street. He got out and checked his gun, sticking it back into his belt, ready. There was no sign of human life. He checked the doorways and shadows as he walked the length of the street. Then he found an abandoned building. It's boarded door had been forced.

He stepped inside cautiously, with his weapon extended. There was no one downstairs. But upstairs? As he silently climbed the steps, he heard a faint scuffling coming from a room on his left. As he paused at the threshold, he saw the shadowy outline of a big thug leaning over a crumpled figure scrunched into the corner of the room. All he could hear was the incoherent swearing of the big guy and a faint "No! No! No! No!", almost like a prayer.

Sam didn't hesitate. In two steps he was across the room and hit the guy a resounding clang across the skull with his gun-butt. The guy fell heavily, cursing as he struggled to get up. But Sam's anger was unabated, his eyes black with fury. He pistol-whipped the son of a bitch until he lay senseless. Maybe he was dead. Sam didn't give a fuck!

Dean lay crushed in a corner in the fetal position, shivering. He looked very small, very female, very pathetic. Sam slipped his arm around her shoulders. Dean flinched involuntarily but he let Sam lift him up onto her feet. Deborah's T-shirt was torn, her breasts exposed, and her jeans clung loosely around her hips. Dean attempted to pull her jacket closed over her chest. He swayed weakly. He looked like he might faint. Sam swept his other arm behind her knees and picked him up. Deborah's voice protested weakly.

"Shut up", Sam said quietly. "I'm here. You're OK now".

He carried Dean down the stairs and back up the street to the Impala. He lowered him into the passenger seat, securing his seat-belt, then he walked around the front and got in the driver's seat.

"Bastard", he mouthed soundlessly.

In a few minutes they were back at the motel. Deborah met them at the door, anxious to know what had happened. Sam carried Dean to his bed and propped him up against the pillows.

('o')

When Dean was settled, Deborah drew Sam to one side to talk. "What happened?", she asked worried.

"Some creep tried to rape him", Sam spit. "Tried?"

"Oh my God!", Deborah exclaimed. "Oh God, Sam. It's all my fault".

"How could it be your fault?", Sam asked. "You didn't make this happen".

"Oh but I did", Deborah confessed. "It was me. It was me all the time. I caused the body swap. It was my spell. I'm a witch!".

Sam shot her a sceptical look. "You? Are a witch?", he asked unbelieving.

"I made this mojo", she said. "It was just meant to be a bit of fun. I never meant to do any harm".

Sam sighed. This was rich. "OK", he said calmly. "The fun's over now. You gotta swap back. Dean needs to be himself again. Take back the mojo and let's get this over".

Deborah lay down on the other bed, muttered a few words of hocus-pocus and lay still, eyes closed as if in sleep. Nothing appeared to happen, but a moment later the female body that had been Dean coughed and stood up. She tugged at her torn clothes.

"Hey, I'll get you another shirt", Sam offered helpfully.

When she had changed, Deborah said, "I guess I oughta go".

"You gonna be OK?", Sam asked.

"Sure", Deborah replied. "I do this all the time, baby. Although it usually ends better. I'm kinda a rolling stone, you know. I used to be a lonely spinster in Ohio until I found an old book on witchcraft in the library. I tried a little swap with the local Miss Beauty-Pageant. But didn't the poor silly airhead get herself killed in a car crash the first day? So I've been moving on ever since".

"Oh yeah? Well, keep safe", Sam said and pecked her lightly on the cheek. Deborah grabbed his face and gave him a long lingering kiss goodbye.

"Take care", she said, and with that she was gone.

Sam turned his attention to his poor brother. Dean's own god-given body was breathing slowly, dead to the world.

('o')

Sam looked down at Dean sleeping restlessly, curled up on the bed. He had been like that for hours. He was exhausted. Shock will do that to you.

Sam felt useless, inadequate. How are you supposed to treat someone who's been sexually assaulted? A shrink would know, but there would be no shrinks. Dean wouldn't put up with that. So it was up to Sam, and he didn't know where to start.

He wanted to hold him. But would that be OK? Maybe he wouldn't want to be touched. He wanted to beg Dean to forgive him. He felt so totally guilt-ridden about not being there when he needed him, not answering when he called. Not this time. This time he had been... distracted.

And while that S.O.B. had been out there abusing Deborah's body, he had been abusing Dean's. Without his consent. Wasn't that just the same? Betrayal? Rape?

Dean uncurled and opened his eyes, perhaps aware that he was being watched.

"Sam?", he asked uncertainly, his voice a little cracked.

"It's alright, Dean. I'm here", Sam replied. "Do you need anything?".

Dean smacked his dry lips together and ran his tongue over them.

"You want something to drink?", Sam asked. "I'll get you some water".

"Hell, I need something stronger than that", Dean complained, sitting up against the headboard.

Sam fetched a bottle of whiskey from his bag and poured Dean a stiff glassful. Dean knocked it back gratefully and motioned for a refill.

"How do you feel?", Sam asked solicitously.

"Like shit!", Dean replied. "And hungry", he added. "And I feel like I need a shower. Yeah, I know that this is a different body. But that's how I feel".

"OK", Sam replied, glad to have something to do. "I'll go get some food while you hit the shower. I won't be long". And he left.

Dean stood in the shower for a long time, letting the too hot water turn his skin bright pink and wash away the feeling of being manhandled just a little.

When he came out of the shower he put on a sweater and sweatpants, sat down on the middle of his bed cross-legged and tried to clear his mind.

With a rattle of keys, Sam let himself back in the room.  
"I got you cheeseburgers and fries. And a nice big slice of homemade apple pie", he said cheerfully.

Then he took a look at Dean. Dean was wearing Sam's sweater and pants.  
Sam set down the take-out and sat next to Dean. "There were clean clothes in your bag, Dean", he said.

"I like these", Dean replied quietly. "They're comfortable, OK?".

Sam climbed on the bed, kneeling behind Dean and, wrapping his arms around him, he pulled him tight against his chest, resting his chin on Dean's shoulder. Dean leaned his head against his brother's. They stayed like that silently for a long while.

"I'm sorry", Sam murmured. "I let you down, bro".

"No", Dean said. "Never say that. It was my fault. I was stupid".

"But you didn't deserve what you got, Dean", Sam sobbed. "You didn't deserve to be...".

"He didn't rape me, Sam", Dean interrupted quickly. "He was gonna but you got there in time. He just...", he paused, the memory painful. "He just kinda groped me. But he frightened me, Sam. I've never felt like that before. I've been stabbed, shot, slashed, punched, bitten, but nothing has scared me like that. I've never felt so vulnerable, so hopeless and weak. That's not me, Sam. And I'm never gonna let anyone make me feel like that again".

"That's my big brother", Sam thought smiling. "'Suck it up and keep driving' is so the real Dean. That's why I love the guy".

Dean clapped his hands together. "OK, where's the food? I'm freakin' ravenous".

('o')

Two months had passed and Dean had spent a lot of the time being quiet and thoughtful, but he had kinda gotten over that. In fact he seemed to be much his old self.

Sam had never told him, of course, about what he and Deborah had been up to while he was swapped. How could you tell someone about that? Some things can't be forgiven.

But it was OK. They were together and that was enough for Sam.

Still, Sam had his daydreams sometimes.

So today they had walked into a little Mom and Pop store. Sam was paying for their purchases at the till, flirting a little with the old lady co-owner, while Dean monkeyed around with a display of local farm produce by the door. There were free samples. He loved free stuff.

Dean unscrewed the lid from a little jar of organic honey and stuck a finger in. He raised it sloppily to his mouth and sucked it clean.

"Whoa!", he yelled suddenly, discovering a strange but pleasant physical reaction to the sweet goo.

"And I'll take a jar of that too", Sam told the old dame, settling up.

He grabbed Dean's arm and dragged him out the door.

"Holy Crap! What in hell do they put in this stuff?", Dean exclaimed. "It's... it's... orgasmic!"

Sam chuckled. "I'll explain it to you some time", he promised.

The End

* * *

A/N: OK that's all the naughtiness out of my system in one go. Now I can go back to the convent! (joke) ;)  
A/N: Hoped you enjoyed this. Reviews/comments would be lovely.


End file.
